


Requiem For a Dream

by APHTrashbin (verfens)



Series: Apocalypse Time Travel AU [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Apocalypse, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 20:45:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5641291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfens/pseuds/APHTrashbin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not yet 20 years since the end of the first certainty of the world, the second certainty is broken as well.  The discovery of the representation of the United States of America in the wake of the beginning of the new world has left both humankind and nationkind- which had been previously been united by the monsters they had fought- in turmoil.  </p><p>Alfred F Jones, the new America, is caught in the crossfire.  Trying to balance who he was with who he is happens to be rather tricky business, given that the monster hunter the old America had become exists as a separate entity within him.  That's not considering that England still prefers the older, more experienced Alfred to the boy before him now.  All this means is that Alfred- both older and younger- have to fight to achieve the dream left over from a grieving man at the end of the world or watch as the world falls once again.</p><p>(Direct sequel to Devil's Game)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Requiem For a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel to a story with very little people following it! However, i loved it so much, and I had to expand the universe. I would 100% recommend reading it before reading this!!

Existence came slowly, warmth surrounding as he came to be. And he understood that he _was_ , but he didn't understand why he was. _She_ was gripping him tightly to her body, and he gripped her back, listening absently.

" _Your name is The United States of America."_ The woman before him said, kissing his forehead as he descended into the forest, unawares of anything else but this moment, this feeling of protection. " _You have been long awaited, dear America. So long awaited, that many thought you would never come."_

As he was set into the field of grass, dressed in a coat and a shirt and pants, he realized there was another with him.

Turning, blue eyes widened at a sleeping man, on the ground. The man had blonde hair, a large, muscular frame and glasses resting on his tired face.

" _He is to be your protector and guide, since it was his presence that caused your delay."_ The woman's voice was fading. " _Now go out into the world, and be true to yourself."_

America had gone over to the older figure, and attempted to grab the man, only to have the man… _meld_ into himself.

He felt an influx of confusion and feelings and understanding, _I'm the United States of America, Alfred F. Jones, and I'm not supposed to be like this,_ before the bigger man took his 'form' again, see-through now.

The child hadn't been able to speak, but he heard a deep, masculine voice speak now, the big man smiling at him awkwardly as he looked around with confused, blue eyes tinged with grey. " _Well, kid, looks like it's you and me now. Walk forward, I'm sure we can find some food to eat in that town up ahead…can you feel it?"_

Strangely, Alfred- his _true_ name- could feel it, much like the other had said.

He was in a field of wheat, and the big guy scratched his head at the irony of it, or so he said. _"Well, I suppose we're stuck together, now, huh?"_

The boy didn't answer, letting the elder lead him into the future.

XXXXX

That had been when he had been born, not yet 20 years ago. He had been entirely alone, only having himself in a field, but he supposed that wasn't horrible, since he had literally been gifted with an older, experienced version of himself from another time, as the man had eventually explained to a curious 10 year old, then on the run from social services and police officers.

However, now he had woken up in an unfamiliar place, vaguely remembering that this older version of himself had instructed him to come to New York- without ever telling him why.

"So, uh, big guy, you gonna tell me anything _now_?" Alfred groaned, rubbing his forehead in response to his throbbing headache, having a terrible aching feeling in his body and mind. "Maybe to say _why_ you wanted me to come here?"

Big Guy didn't answer Alfred, but he was used to it. He felt the man's presence inside of him the same as he usually did, unless the big guy was going to give him an audience and talk to him. By that, he meant that the other would take on a semi-transparent form, and stand with him.

Since Alfred had been born in that wheat field, he had constant company in the form of that older, wizened version of himself. When he was young, the Big Guy had given him constant advice on what to do, and companionship, and sometimes- usually _completely unintentionally-_ he would see memories of the time that Big Guy had been alive.

He knew now, as he had learned then, that he was the United States of America, just as he knew his name was Alfred F. Jones, and he was _much_ younger than he should be- but Alfred didn't really know how to go about… assuming _office_ , or whatever he would need to do. He didn't know how to go about proving he was a nation, either.

" _No."_ The familiar voice murmured softly, in its nowadays all-too-usual sadness, the sound reverberating in his mind.

" _Ugh_." Alfred shook his head, irritated as he opened his eyes, rubbing his forehead again. He stared down at the bandages on his body, confused by their presence. "Ouch. What'd I get hit by?"

"If we're being specific, first it was the pavement, and then your bike." The voice said, with a sort of dripping sarcasm that Alfred wasn't precisely used to, and he snorted.

"Man, I've not ever heard you being that sarcastic, big guy _." Or explanatory_ , he thought to himself with a touch of irony. Alfred blinked, looking up at the ceiling and contemplating it while he scratched his head. "Well, not in _years_ , at least…"

"… _What_?" The voice spoke again, seeming to be baffled by his words, and now that Alfred was actually paying attention, it wasn't the familiar voice of his past life. But rather…it was something else. It was still familiar, and Alfred's stomach dropped.

"Uhm." He looked over to the voice of _Arthur_ , of all people, and saw green eyes wide in confusion. "Heheh…hi." He murmured, sitting up straight. "Well. I don't remember how I ended up here…but…well." He grinned, nervous as he repeated himself. "Hi."

"Yes…you already said that." Arthur blinked, and raised an eyebrow in shocked surprise. "You _are_ the United States of America, correct, Alfred?" He said, almost tentative, and Alfred nodded, gulping.

"Yes…" He agreed slowly. "That's, uh, what they said I was."

Of all the things he had expected, he hadn't expected the other to simply blow up at him, enraged.

"Then why didn't you make yourself apparent sooner?" Arthur said, irritated. "It's been really hard to find you, I hope you know. I covered for you out there, but you seem to know what's up… Do you remember me, then?" He asked, and Alfred didn't know how to answer.

"Well!" He said, his mouth silently moving, trying to find the right words for his complicated situation with Arthur Kirkland. "Uhm. Yeah, I…I do, uhm, remember you...?"

Of course he did- he felt who this man was deep in his bones, deep in his very soul, deep in his heart. It ached and it burned and it yearned for the others presence in a way that nothing else quite satisfied.

 _Arthur._ _Beloved Arthur._ The big guy's thoughts derailed a bit, and Alfred had to pull himself back to attention so he didn't get lost in that also.

Granted, his memories didn't make _sense_ 'cause the big guy never did like explaining things-ergo, the previous train of thought. Besides that, what he did know managed to be completely contradicting in a lot of ways, which was frustrating on a level Alfred couldn't even vocalize.

Instead of looking happy, Arthur's scowl only deepened at his agreement, the irascibility Alfred had known of the man in his memories raising its ugly head and preparing to eat Alfred alive and spit out his bones.

"You twat!" He shouted, looking incredibly irate. "We thought you had _died,_ as in, disappeared- but it makes total sense! You had probably decided it was better to go off the grid, and left us fumbling all over again. Not to mention you left your nation- once _again_ might I add- in a state of complete and total _disarray_!" Arthur rolled his eyes, and Alfred's own widened in surprise. The sudden attack on his choices made him defensive.

"W-wait! I think…" Alfred tried to interject, confused and absorbing the words of his dearly loved Arthur like a sponge, even though they poisoned him and threatened to swallow him whole.

"You think? Obviously you don't- otherwise you would have thought about the consequences of your actions a little more- your country was without a nation for yet another decade and more!" Arthur shouted at him, and the big guy got irritated on Alfred's behalf- a good thing, since Alfred wasn't as thick-skinned as he'd like to be and was

And he was growing upset, but- but…he didn't know what to do.

_Tell him he doesn't understand._

The voice of the big guy was giving him instructions, and Alfred gathered himself enough to speak, letting the comforting feeling of the older, more experienced version of himself give him the strength to stay on his feet.

"Y-you…don't…don't understand…" He said, choking on his tears. "I…I…"

_You're not me._

"I'm…I'm not who you're thinking of." Alfred said, holding himself tight, and looking at him, feeling the big guy comforting him with a sort of…mental hug? It wasn't an easy feeling to explain, but he was enveloped mentally, barring out his hurt and upset to help him. It wasn't hard for his older self to remember that Alfred was just a child- one with little experience dealing with humans- let alone other nations.

_He's being cruel._

"Now…P-please stop…" The young man whimpered, begging internally for the big guy to just take control, but the older was stoutly refusing, sitting on the very edge of Alfred's consciousness- enough for Alfred to feel him, but not forceful enough to control him. He wished that he would step in, and be strong, get the other to understand… Alfred wasn't strong like the big guy was.

When Alfred didn't hear any more insults directed towards him, so he felt courageous enough to look back up at him.

Arthur looked surprised as much as confused, but mostly, there was regret, palpable in his expression. "What do you mean…?" He asked, blinking as he spoke, voice softer- gentler.

"I…I'm _not_ him…I'm not the big guy…I'm not the monster hunter, or uhm…whoever I once was." He shook, looking down. "I'm Alfred. I'm 18 years old. I've been alone most of my life, when I appeared, I dunno…a few years ago? The big guy tells me things, about how to survive, and junk… and so I dunno…well, I don't know _anything_ about what you're talking about…"

The man he saw so frequently in his dreams looked just about mortified, and he turned around, and walked out of the room, leaving Alfred even more confused than he had been before.

That had been…. surprisingly anti-climactic.

Alfred stood, wobbling on his feet and focusing on what he knew about what had happened. He was in New York. Arthur was here. Arthur had called him America. Arthur was a _nation_.

And then the big guy let something slip.

_He rubbed his temples, and went into the coffee shop, smiling at the barista kindly. He walked up to the counter, before ordering a black coffee, with a couple espresso shots inside._

Alfred knew that it was one of his older selves memories, but it was far more in depth than many of the others that Alfred knew purposefully.

The big guy was dozing, letting himself slip, and the line between old and new went blurry as Alfred fell into it.

_"Why, hello again, stranger…" Oh shit. It was undoubtedly England, from the snooty voice that was trying way too hard to be sultry. Alfred sighed in an almost nostalgic manner, before turning around with a smile that hid such wistful thoughts. England was looking him over, smiling approvingly, probably because of his body…dirty old man. "I see you got out of there just fine, it seems that Matthew was over exaggerating when he said you jumped out of the building at our floor."_

_He wanted to tell him so badly to just fuck off; he didn't have enough fucking coffee for this…not right now. Please, and thank you. Alfred stared, that was Arthur but the big guy was calling him England._

_Instead he nodded, trying to play along, give England the answer he was undoubtedly probing for from Alfred, and then get out of there. "Yeah! I'm just fine! And, well, actually, I was brought in by the UN to talk about my profession!" Profession, ha. "I've been hunting them for a few years, and had some knowledge of how they work…"_

_England looked interested. "Is that why you were in there?" And Alfred nodded, sighing as he saw Gilbert open the door, trying to discretely sign to him to back off- this wasn't Arthur- this was England, and he couldn't know all about this. "That's interesting. So you are the hunter of those beasts. Who was the one that destroyed the meeting room, if I might ask?"_

Alfred was pulled from it, feeling drowned in the memory, the older version of himself sealing it off once again.

"He's…not Arthur then." Alfred slowly came to grasp, eyes widening. "This- this is _England_. The one you met while fighting off Arthur…"

 _Correct._ The voice was heard clearly in his mental space, and Alfred only could sigh. _Arthur, the one I love…he died._ Big guy sounded tired, and almost nostalgic. _He's been dead for a long time._

"Oh." Alfred murmured, slowly trying to stand up. "Well, how do I get out of here, then?" He looked around, uncertain of himself.

"You don't." Another voice came in, and Alfred whipped around to see who it was. The face was vaguely familiar. "I am Francis Bonnefoy, representative of France."

_An image came through, a man standing in a field where Arthur was crying, a man congratulating Alfred on his freedom, a man looking sickly even as Alfred promised to liberate him- only to be spat on. A man crying against Alfred as he moved to shoot Matthew, feral and prepared to kill them all…_

_Francis, the man that had gone quiet into the goodnight, a peaceful, silent death with only a rose left in his place. The one England was closest to now._

"Ah." Alfred's eyes widened in surprise of the influx of memory, unsure of what Francis was doing there- and why Alfred wouldn't be allowed to leave. "Is…is Arthur not coming back in, then?" He tilted his head in confusion.

"No. He is… upset by a few things." Francis remained delicate with the younger. "Who were you talking to, Alfred?" The look the other nation was giving him told Alfred that Francis already had a hunch as to what was going on inside his head.

Alfred remained silent, unsure of what to say. He eventually broke this with a quiet look of resistance. "I'm sure you have your suspicions." He settled on. "So, why don't I ask… who do you think I was talking to?"

"I think you were talking, as insane as it sounds…to our dear, lost, monster hunter." Francis sighed after a moment. "And I'm almost positive I'm right- so I want answers…straight from him."

Alfred gulped a bit. "I can't guarantee that." He admitted, looking down and preparing to stand up. "He doesn't come when called… he's not a dog."

"No, perhaps not. But you're not going anywhere without answers." Francis admitted with a shrug. "It's not everyday it becomes apparent that another timeline exists."

"Exist _ed_." Alfred corrected sharply, disliking the look Francis was giving him- like a prized jewel. "And I'm the America from _your_ timeline. I don't know much. He doesn't tell me much- let alone others."

"Then I suppose you should get comfortable." Francis smiled, attempting to be kind, but only managing to terrify the young, inexperienced nation. Were they going to interrogate him? He didn't know anything…he didn't know anything!

Francis walked out for the moment, humming quietly, as though nothing was wrong and Alfred wasn't essentially imprisoned, and much like his predecessor- he prized his freedom above all else.


End file.
